Not Even Faking It
Happy Thanksgiving. Thank you universe for providing me with what I needed to get right in time for today. To just get over all the little details and this’s and that’s and even some big ones, big feeling this’s and that’s in time to enjoy what there is to be enjoyed on this day. And this year I have a lot, and maybe it won’t be that way next year, or maybe it will be even better next year, but this year it’s like this and I’m going to appreciate it. Get on that appreciation thing and that being present for what is thing like it’s my job.
It’s not that hard. I'm not even faking it. Our cousins are here and we are so freaking lucky to host. Ax’s cousins, my cousin’s kids, are seven and four years old and last night was everyone’s first sleepover. At our house. We had hopes for sleep, but there was quite a lot of play – a lot of giggling, chatting, contemplating, jumping, and talking about bodily functions late into the night.
Little four-year-old Tinkerbelle figured out that if she whispered “fart” into Ax’s ear she could make him laugh uncontrollably. So she did that. Repeatedly. For maybe half an hour. Fart. Fart. Fart. Fart. Until her brother, Dude, announced he had the flu but was not supposed to tell anyone, and begged for her to stop.
And then finally the three of them self-regulated and crawled into different beds. I got to sleep with flu dude and I didn’t even worry about it. And there was some sleep. Today has started. Dude is playing indoor hockey with an upside-down hobby horse from my childhood and balled up socks. Tinkerbelle has decided she is not afraid of cats but actually would like a cat. And Ax has had his first sleepover. Time to make the waffles. I’m gonna keep going.